


Quiet

by merlywhirls



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, MWPP, Marauders era, v much just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:00:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlywhirls/pseuds/merlywhirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus and Sirius enjoy a rare moment of peace in their dorm on Christmas the day after a full moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, Allinom! Hopefully you're still in the Christmas spirit for this fic...

It was a quiet moment of peace. It was something they had craved for weeks, stealing small moments in between classes when they could, but nothing felt as good as the assurance that it would just be the two of them for some time. The dorm was eerily silent, usually so boisterous and clattering with noise. But now it was quiet, empty bar the two of them, and so they didn't even bother to draw the curtains on the bed.

Christmas snow fell in flossy tendrils outside, coating the windowsill like frosting on a cake. Most of the school had gone home for the holiday, especially the Gryffindors, all but for four peculiar boys, waking up Christmas morning tired and sore.

The bed was unmade although it was nearly three in the afternoon. The white sheets were dotted with ink splats and newly dried blood. The red stains made Remus feel dirty, but Sirius didn’t pay them any mind, sitting in the middle of the bed and nesting himself in the blankets. Remus climbed on too, spreading his legs out to rest on either side of Sirius’ hips, wedging himself between the boy’s legs. It felt like a natural way for Remus to sit, but Sirius quirked an eyebrow and said, “Comfortable?”

“What?” Remus asked.

Sirius just huffed a laugh, grabbing Remus’ thighs to pull him closer. He squeezed above Remus’ knee, causing him to jolt and whack Sirius in the arm in retaliation.

“No tickling,” Remus warned and Sirius mock yawned.

“’No ticking, Sirius,’” he imitated, “’No kissing in the middle of class, Sirius.’ ‘No, you can’t blow me in the Great Hall, Sirius, what’s wrong with you?’ Why are you such a buzzkill, Moony?”

“Am not,” Remus pouted.

Sirius gave him a chaste kiss on his pouting his lips, laughing at his petulance. He started trailing light kisses on his cheeks, down to the hinge of his jaw and murmured in his ear, “Then why wouldn’t you let me blow you at lunch?”

Remus laughed lightly. “I didn’t want to have to pay for our friends’ therapy.”

“Hey, we’ve been good to them, you know. Not once have they walked in on us or have we been embarrassingly affectionate.”

The four of them were pretty good at silent understandings, reading between the lines. Peter needed a nudge time and again to reach full comprehension, but when they told their friends they were going up to bed for a bit, neither of them offered to come too, instead settling deeper into the common room couches. James would probably let them stay there, alone, for a maximum of two hours, but it felt enough.

“Are we excusing your lack of not trying to keep the affection to a minimum?” Remus teased.

Now Sirius pouted. “My point still stands. They owe us at least one incident of accidental walk-in.”

Remus considered, playing with the hem of Sirius’ shirt. “Not really walking in if they’re already there, though. Great Hall idea is still an out. Not happening. I’m not even mentioning the likely expulsion.”

Sirius began kissing along Remus’ neck, stopping at the hollow of his throat and nibbling. Remus pulled Sirius shirt, hoping to bring him closer when Sirius pulled away instead. Remus whined.

“All this talk of blow jobs and your pants are still on,” Sirius said mischievously.

But Remus shook his head. “Too tired,” he sighed.

It was almost a miracle for him to have stayed awake this long, rising from his bed tentatively at ten in the morning, knocking around heavy objects to wake the others too. Sirius still had sticks in his hair when he kissed him good morning, but his breath smelled like mint when he said, “Merry Christmas.”

Sirius moved up to kiss his chin, and finally his lips again. “Must have been one hell of a moon.”

“You should know,” Remus bit his bottom lip, “You were there.”

“Wasn’t that bad. There are a few bats who might disagree but we’re not asking them.”

“Hm, is it because they might be dead?”

“Let’s not get into the morbidity of it.”

Remus laughed dryly. “They’re dead, aren’t they?”

Usually Sirius would be concerned at Remus’ pressing, always concerned about how he perceives their monthly activities, but he could feel the boy’s lips smiling against his own, light and joking.

“I must admit,” Sirius said slowly, “That they may be deceased. But we could get one of those muggle contraptions they use to talk to ghosts – wee-jee…”

Remus chuckled affectionately. “A Ouija board. Don’t think it works for animal ghosts, though.”

“Well, that’s a shame. I’m sure they’d have a hell of a story to tell.”

Absently, Sirius traced the scars lining up Remus’ arm, causing the boy to shiver despite the warm atmosphere of the dorm. Remus doesn't like touching his scars if he can avoid it, and if anyone else attempted it he _might_ just bite their heads off, but Sirius could and constantly did. When Sirius did it, though, fingertips following the smooth and raised lines, it felt like reassurance, acceptance, some small piece of beauty brushing against the monster and finding it wonderful.

It was even better to feel his lips pressed against them.

“What time is it?” Remus asked abruptly, his brows furrowed in concentration as he stared out the dormitory window. Snow was still falling serenely, and Remus felt a longing to feel it on his skin.

Sirius ran his finger between Remus’ eyebrows, down the bridge of his nose and stopping at the tip. It directed Remus’ attention back to him as he replied, “It’s nearly five. Why?”

Remus sighed. “Too late to go outside, then?”

“It is never too late nor too early for Marauders to go outside!” But even as he said it, he saw Remus’ head droop tiredly, resting against Sirius’ shoulder. “Or maybe it’s a bit late,” he murmured. 

“I want to go out in the snow,” Remus almost whined.

“It’ll be snowing tomorrow.” Sirius started running his fingers through his soft, curly hair.

Remus shook his head. “S’not Christmas without playing in the snow.”

Sirius snorted. “And you say I sound like a child.”

“Shut up,” Remus mumbled. “M’tired.”

The sun outside was dipping dangerously low, an indication to Remus that the day was drawing to a fast close. This would be his first Christmas without the snow, without the cold flakes dotting his hair and snowballs pummeled into James’ unsuspecting face ( _“Some Chaser you are, Prongs!”_ ).

Sirius squirmed, jostling Remus’ head on his shoulder, to extract his wand from his back pocket. With a flick of his wrist, he drew the heavy red velvet curtains to a close around the bed. They were instantly casted into darkness, and Remus complained that he couldn’t see the snow anymore.

“Don't worry, Moony,” Sirius assured him, “You’ll get your snow.”

Sirius silently thanks the heavens and Merlin himself for Marauder shenanigans that allowed Sirius the knowledge to conjure snow. Most of their second year was spent raining bouts of snow down upon unsuspecting victims, mostly their Gryffindor prefect Arthur Weasley, whom they liked but liked his startled and exasperated reactions more.

He raised his wand above their heads, twirling it slowly in the air until small soft spots appeared from the ceiling and came falling down onto the sheets around them.

“You’re kidding,” Remus huffs, but Sirius can hear the strain of amusement in his tone.

Sirius shrugs his free shoulder. “You wanted snow, Moony, so I provided. Being the charming boyfriend that I am.”

Remus snorted, but lifted his head and stuck out his tongue to catch the snowflakes. Sirius smiled, watching the snow dot Remus’ face like white freckles and streaking his hair like premature greys. Small mounds were building up around them, and Sirius rolled a bundle into his hand. With Remus’ attention still fixated on the ceiling, Sirius hooked a finger on the neck of Remus’ shirt and stuffed the ball of snow down his shirt.

Remus yelped, instantly shoving a handful of snow into Sirius’ face. The peace and tranquility that had settled over them when they first nestled into the blankets was now gone, tossed aside to tumble and wrestle in the snow coagulated on Remus’ bed.

Their hair soon became soaked and dripping, their shirts clinging to their shivering skin, but smiles remained plastered onto their faces. Remus laid back on the bed, Sirius hovering over him and shaking droplets onto his face. Remus mumbled something about _wet dog_ , but pulled Sirius down for a kiss.

The snow continued to fall around them, but it went mostly ignored by the pair now. Sirius cupped Remus’ face gently as he angled their faces better. Remus’ nose pressed hard into Sirius’ cheek, not that he minded, pushing their lips together almost painfully. Remus held Sirius in place by the back of his head, drowning in the boy’s heavy pants and breaths exhaling into his mouth.

The kisses became slower, gentler, as Sirius felt Remus relax under him, his grip loosening in his hair and arm falling. Remus sighed contently, and when Sirius pulled away he saw the boy’s eyes were closed peacefully. Sirius smiled and turned to shuffle beside him, but a large clump of snow fell from the back of his neck and back and fell heavily onto Remus.

Remus gave an indignant shout – _“That was uncalled for, Padfoot!”_ – until he noticed the massive mountain of snow that had settled, and continued to settled, all over his bed.

Sirius laughed, “Guess I better turn your snow off, huh?”

“Mm, please. Also clean up the rest of the bed.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, holding the wand above their heads and twirling it counter-clockwise, meaning to suck the snow back up into non-existence, only the action caused it to fall more heavily.

Sirius apologized over Remus’ spluttering, trying again to stop the snowfall but failing miserably.

“That – ow!” Remus rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I think that was a hail stone!”

“Shit,” Sirius muttered. Remus had pulled out his own wand, attempting to quell the snow but also failing.

“What the hell kind of snow did you summon?” Remus asked, only half-joking.

“I just know how much you like snow,” Sirius replied dryly, annoyed that his efforts to counteract the snow wasn’t working.

The pile was up to their chests now as they sat on the bed. Remus would have been more amused if he weren’t so cold and sore, now becoming as frustrated as Sirius.

With a sweep of his arm, Remus pushes some of the snow off of the bed, opening the bed curtains to watch it lump onto the floor. The sheets were soaked, along with their clothes, and the tumbling snow soon refilled the empty spaces in greater urgency than before.

“I think we’re going to have to call in reinforcements,” Remus suggested and Sirius only sighed.

“Yeah. Embarrassing, though.”

But before he could get up from the bed they heard a _bang_ of someone running into the heavy wooden dorm door. Without looking, the pair knew it was Peter, too eager to get in that he missed turning the doorknob before trying to enter.

He enters in a string of profanities, followed by James’ unamused lecture of _we’ve told you this before, Wormtail, take your damned time_ before they stopped dead at the sight of Remus and Sirius peering at them from the bed, shivering, wet, and surrounded by heavy heaps of snow.

“Hi guys,” Sirius said cheerily. “Mind giving us a hand?”

*

It was too much effort to clean up Remus’ bed once James, with some minor hindrance from Peter, managed to stop the snow from falling, and so the boy fell into Sirius’ bed without hesitation when it came time to sleep. Sirius just rolled his eyes, climbing in beside him and relishing in the warmth of the comforter and Remus himself.

Sirius curled around Remus’ back, arm winding around his waist and pulling him closer. Remus hummed as Sirius buried his nose in the nape of his neck, pressing small kisses against his skin.

“Merry Christmas, Remus,” he murmured into the shell of his ear, “Hope you liked your snow.”

Remus only half snorted, too close to falling asleep to do it properly, mumbling happily, “I did. Every inch of it.”

They fell asleep easily, flakes drifting as lightly as they did outside their window and settling silently on the windowsill. The night was quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> I always need more fics where these two just cuddle. More Cuddling Fics 2k15


End file.
